


The Post War Dream

by Azrael_Hunter



Category: Sherlock (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Assassin Dean, Detective Castiel, New York City
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-31
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2018-02-15 14:12:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2231979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azrael_Hunter/pseuds/Azrael_Hunter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When bodies start popping up all over the world without any evidence being found, naturally the police start getting interested.  Castielle becomes intrigued by this mysterious Ghost assassin and begins looking deeper into the cases.  At the same time Dean Winchester comes in to the New York precinct ready for his old job and Castielle is immediately smitten with the 30 year old alumn.  As she spends more time with him, she begins to open up about her time in the military and the nightmares that haunt her.  But when a close friend of hers is shot by the Ghost, it's up to Castielle and Dean Winchester to find the killer.<br/>The Ghost will lead them on an epic journey across the world and soon enough they find the world's best detective to help them.  But will they be able to find the Ghost?  And when they do, whose name will be lurking underneath the mask?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Paranoid Eyes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CopperChondrite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CopperChondrite/gifts).



Zurich, Switzerland,  
January 24th, 2020 

He could see the target through his scope lens and smiled. This job was paying him $25 million for a sightseeing trip to Switzerland and another notch under his belt. He followed the target as he walked toward one of the benches. He lay on the secluded balcony at the top of the North-side tower of the back , which, translated into English, meant the Great Mother. The towers were the tallest ones within the old city of Zurich and could be seen throughout the whole town. His target was sitting under the shade of a tree but Gabriel could see him clearly enough to shoot a bullet right through his brain. The man opened up his newspaper and Gabriel’s training started to kick in.

“I got you now Ryker” he said to himself and took aim through the scope.

 

On the opposite tower another man lay stomach down, one eye shut and finger poised over the trigger. His toes were hanging off the edge since the balcony wasn’t nearly long enough to accommodate his height. It didn’t matter to him though. Even if someone were see him, the police would have only his boots as a lead and that would get them nowhere. His breathing was slow and even, just as his military training had taught him. Except for it wasn’t just the training that had brought down his breathing. An hour before he had taken enough Diazepam to slow his heart rate down to 25 beats a minute. Normally he would have been able to get down there on his own, but his heart rate had been abnormally fast that morning and he needed to be precise with this job. This wasn’t a normal job. This was personal. 

He saw his target begin to follow his target and the man began slowing his own breaths. Except just before he was about to pull the trigger his target shuffled further back (presumably to get a better shot) and he went out of range. 

“Fuck”, he whispered and moved to a squatting position. He had about a two minutes window to go through with the job before it got critical. He quickly started disassembling his M-24; he would have to get out of here quick once the job was done.

 

Gabriel had had to move once his target had stood up to sit in the sun. Couldn’t the bastard just sit and wait for his own death. He was about to shoot when he heard a whoosh, the sound of a clamp, and the fall of feet. His eyes widened as he realised who it was. There was only one person who would be here, but he was afraid to look. He brought back his head and he could imagine what he must have looked like to the Ghost standing before him. Brown hair, long and greasy, a red burn on his left cheek, and hazel eyes filled with regret and paranoia. 

“You didn’t think that you could actually hide from me did you Gabriel?” the Ghost said to him. His voice was cold, like a million tiny daggers being dragged across a blackboard. He spoke softly, almost in a whisper, exactly how a predator would lure in it’s prey. The Ghost took the last few steps forward so that he stood right above Gabriel, his Nagant M1895 held above his chest. "I will find every last one of you until you are all dead!" The Ghost yelled at him. Gabriel clenched his eyes shut and whispered his last words.  
“I’m sorry”.

 

The next morning Gabriel’s body was found by the caretaker, laying in a pool of his own blood. The police came but there was nothing to investigate; no prints, no slugs, no evidence. There had been reports similar to this. Interpol called him the Ghost. Number one on the most wanted list even though he had only been on the radar for a few weeks, it was long enough for him to kill 26 people. He came and left without ever leaving a trace and the police had never been able to find him. They knew one thing for sure though. He never missed a target.


	2. Your Possible Pasts

July 17th, 2020  
New York City, NY

I stood with my arms crossed watching the interrogation from behind the one-way glass. I was sure that he this was the killer. It was as if I had a sixth sense for the psychopaths. Unfortunately the interrogation happening in front of me was incredibly one-sided since their suspect had decided to keep his lips sealed. It was obvious that he was afraid of whoever it was that held his leash and the police department were going to have to cut him one good deal before he ever came close to talking. I could Detective Avery and Declan attacking the suspect trying to get him to give up some information, and their foreheads were already beaded with sweat. Avery's dark brown hair was sticking out as if he had stuck his finger in an electric socket and his blue eyes, even I could tell, were getting desperate. Declan still looked calm, but I could tell he was beginning to wonder if we would get the killer to confess. he ran a hand through his blonde hair and his green eyes flicked to mine though he wouldn't have known. I looked at window and saw my own reflection looking back at me. My black hair made my otherwise pale skin look paler, and my blue eyes were beginning to look a little grey due to stress. 

“Castielle?” The Captain poked his head through the door. Captain Singer was in his 50’s and was a man who would not tolerate any type of bullshit. His hair was a dark ginger and his beard would be the same, save for the grey that now adorned it. He had his baseball cap pulled over his head as if he were afraid his hair would fall off without it.  
“Yes Captain?” I replied though my focus was still on the interrogation.  
“I have someone you need to meet,” and he walked off his boots thumping down the hall back to his office. I sighed, but followed. I smoothed down by black jacket and tried to fix my shirt so that I least I could pass for professional. Professional woman always intimidated newbies. Though the last thing I needed was some greenie who- holy shit.

The man, or more likely, God, standing in front of her was no greenie, of this she was sure. His stance was too military trained (I had plenty of experience to know that), and he already had a standard issue Glock 17 in his belt. He was tall, much taller than my 5’8, except with the heeled boots I wore, I was level with his jaw which had a little bit of scruff. His hair was a dirty blonde and his green eyes seemed to stare right into my soul and draw out my darkest secrets. I swallowed, trying to stop the blood from rushing to my face. I could already feel myself blushing and I tried to look away out the window. 

“Castielle, this is Dean Winchester. Formerly with the New York Police before he was drafted to the war in 2016. He just came back and I thought that you might be able to show our alumn the ropes once more,” Captain told me. ‘Right, give me the sexy soldier. As if he’s going to make my job easier,’ I thought to myself and I desperately wanted to say it, but what came out instead was,  
“Pleasure to meet you Dean Winchester, and welcome back. My name is Castielle Novak,” I spoke softly, not wanting to threaten the newcomer as I held out my hand. Dean seemed unsure at first, as his he didn’t know what to do, but quickly took a step forward and took hold of my small hand.  
“A pleasure to meet you as well Castielle. I look forward to working with you,” he gave me a small smile and I felt my heart jumped into my throat. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had seen him before. I merely smiled and tightened my grip around his hand.  
“Likewise”.

 

Dean Winchester had been at the precinct for only a week when he proved himself to be an exemplary detective. His first full day, he managed to break a two week old case, as well as catch the head of a drug ring for murder. The narcotics department was involved with that case and I hated having to play with others. This was homicide and not a drugs bust. Winchester was still waiting on his bullet proof vest, but he was handling point attack like a pro. The captain had given him point even though that had always been my role of attack. I was finishing up the report for their most recent case when Winchester came and sat in the chair next to my desk. It faced me so I could still see the way his jaw clenched right before he was about to speak and I felt the frustration bubble up.

“What are you doing tonight Cas, I want to take you out on a date.” I pushed back my keyboard and sat back in the chair.  
“I don’t date Winchester,” I heard myself say, but it wasn’t very convincing.  
“Well then we can just go as friends. Come on, we are partners now and I want to get to know you. Partners have to be able to rely on each other for there to be a functional team.” He replied with tongue in cheek.  
“I know how a functional team works, I was in Afghanistan for three tours,” I snapped at him and he sat there unfazed. He had a point though. A company had to be able to rely on each other and there had to be a high level of trust between a fireteam.  
“Alright fine, there’s a great diner down on West 118th” I said standing up, and grabbing my beloved beige trenchcoat.

 

“You’re laughing now, but it was not fun to be the only girl in your company! Every which way I looked there guys trying to hit on you because they were all sexually frustrated 20 year olds” Castielle laughed along with Dean. I liked it when he laughed. He laughed with his whole body, head bent back and shoulders shaking. It was contagious. When they had calmed down Dean asked, “So what was the worst part about coming home?” I stopped eating her fries and thought about it.  
“Probably my bed. On the plane over I couldn’t stop thinking about how great it would be to actually sleep, but as soon as I sat on the bed I knew i wouldn’t be able to. It was too soft, I was afraid that I would fall through. Even now I tend to sleep on the floor because it’s what I’m used to. What about you? How many tours did you have to do?” He sighed and looked down at his plate.  
“I was drafted in when I was 27 and I was there for four tours. The first three went fine but the last one,” he paused and took a swig from his beer before continuing. “It was a living hell. I was in a new company and the captain was irresponsible and an idiot. He sent me out to captain a squad of 10 to ambush a nearby platoon,” Her eyes widened. Platoons are normally made up of 20 or more while squads are made up of eight to ten. Sending a team of ten to ambush a platoon was suicidal. “I tried to tell him that there was no way we could take down that many but he insisted or he’d shoot us right where we stood. I think he was just afraid to be there. He was a coward and had no idea what he had gotten himself into. Our company was stationed in the most active part of the war. So the ten of set out like the good soldiers we were. I told them that we had to split up so if one of us were to get caught, we wouldn’t all be caught. Of course they didn’t listen to me and two of our best snipers were taken. Myself and two others went after them while I sent the other five back. No point sending them to die. Anyways we got the two out but in the process of getting out one guy was shot, but we had to keep going. That was my biggest regret, leaving that man to die. I can still hear his screams as we ran.” Dean brought a hand up to his face to wipe away a single tear. I took his hand across the table and he held onto it as if it were the last thing on Earth. 

We continued talking, but they stayed clear of Dean’s time in the military. He mostly asked about her experiences and I told him.  
“There was this one job where we were sent to retrieve a pow, but I don’t know what happened,” She said reminiscently. “You don’t remember anything?” I shook my head. “It was night and were about 50. It was raining too, I remember that, but what I’ve heard from my partner was that I was shot right above my heart. I would’ve died if he hadn’t gotten me back to base. I was sent back as soon as I was awake.” I looked down at my hands. This was where I normally started feeling shitty about myself. “I was not a good soldier. I didn’t listen to orders and that’s what nearly got me killed. We kept talking after that, but we stayed clear of our experiences in the war. He told me about his brother studying at Stanford to become a lawyer and I told him about my parents leaving me when I was 17. I had never spoken about my experiences so openly with anyone and I felt like I could trust Dean more after our dinner. 

He walked me up the steps to my apartment building and he stood there awkwardly, hands in front pockets. I gripped the straps of my bag. 

“So I had fun tonight,” He said to me softly, as he took a step forward just as I took a step back. I was not good with these kind of social experiences.  
“I like pie,” was the only thing I ended up saying to him and I mentally slapped myself. His eyes lit up as he chuckled a little. “Me too,” he whispered as he backed me up to the railing. I grabbed it as I tried not to fall over. Dean’s eyes were clouded with lust, but with also something a little more dangerous. It scared me but before I could say something he just stepped back and grinned at me.  
“See you tomorrow Novak,” he left without waiting for an answer and I watched him as he disappeared into the night.

 

*beep* *beep* *beep*

My hand shot out to find my phone as I sat up, turning on the light. I looked at the caller ID and immediately picked up.

"Where should I be Captain?"

 

As I drove down Madison Avenue to the south-eastern corner of Central Park, I wondered whose body I would find. Whose family I would have to crush with news. As I pulled into a parking spot, stepping out into the blue glow of police lights, I could see the sun just starting to rise. I walked over to Declan and Avery, my boots clicking on the pavement.

"Morning boys. Alright give me the run down." 

Declan answered me first as we walked toward the body.

"Well there was a shooting this morning. Pointe-blank kill from the Plaza hotel roof. We've got forensics scanning for -" I cut him off as I looked at the body.  
"You won't find any. This was no amateur. Two shots to the chest, close together. You said it was from the Plaza? That means he would have had to get access to the roof. I want CSU to sweep every staff member who would had access to the roof. Avery, I need you to canvas. See if anyone saw someone suspicious." I finished and squatted over the body. I took a closer look at the bullet holes and realised that they were very small. Declan and Avery were still standing there.  
"This is his MO," I muttered as I stood and looked at the scene. Declan and Avery looked at each other confused. 

"Who's?" they both asked. "The Ghost's. I've been going over all of his files and this is exactly his MO. What's our vic's name, he looks familiar." Avery flipped through his pad as I waited.  
"Has anyone seen Winchester? He should be here too." I asked to no one in particular looking around expecting him to come walking nonchalantly over. I took out my phone sending a quick text. To: Winchester //Where are you?//  
"No, but I found our vic's name. Balthazar Eliseo," I stopped breathing. "Is that familiar to you?"  
"Yes," I whispered. "We were in Afghanistan together."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I updated today because I had time during my free lessons to write another chapter. Enjoy :)

**Author's Note:**

> hello all! This is my first ever fic and I really hope you enjoy it! I was inspired by a post on Pinterest (which actually originated from tumblr) and I got really excited about the idea. I know I've made some changes to the Cas character... ahem I just didn't feel comfortable writing gay smut :s I haven't got a schedule yet but I am going to try to post a chapter at least once a week.. most likely sometime on a weekend :) Leave Comments! They are always welcome! :)


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